


Grafted

by V41KYR13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Draco Malfoy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, F/M, Omega Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29813865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V41KYR13/pseuds/V41KYR13
Summary: After the witch trials of 1582, the wizarding world suffered a devastating loss to their magical population. Fourteen years later, a law was introduced to protect the European magical community. Any child born of Muggles exhibiting magic, would be taken from their Muggle families, and raised in an orphanage, until such a time that a magical family chooses to adopt and graft them.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 20
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will begin from Harry’s perspective. As this first chapter is what I churned out when the idea for this story first came to me. Once we reach a certain point in the plot, it will begin from Hermione’s perspective, I have a lot of her chapters written, so her perspective will probably begin from when she was at the orphanage. I decided to begin from Harry’s perspective, because I needed an outside somewhat objective viewpoint to paint the picture of Hermione Black. If I decide to start her perspective later on in years; ie Hogwarts time, to move things along, I’ll post her early years chapters separately if the story takes off. I’m going to be writing Harry’s perspective in a spaced out chronological order to move things along, so we’ll get to Hermione's perspective faster, as she’s the star of this story. I love Harry, and I love him in this story, but I will make it clear right now that he will not end up in a romantic relationship with her. I’m a strict dramione shipper. ;) I also love ABO, but so many of them are written in such a way that subjugates Hermione biologically. Not that I disapprove, I love the trope. But it just got me thinking, what IF Hermione was an omega with all the advantages of her original character? What if, like her canon character, she thwarted the social norms, instead of adhering to them? Personally, I think she would end up ruling them all.

**HARRY**

  
“Auror badge number one four two seven, rank of junior detective, Harry James Potter. You have been summoned before the Wizengamot on Tuesday the twelfth of November, Two thousand and one, to attest to the proceedings of the illegal binding of British Omega, one Lady Hermione Jean Black, née Granger, of the sacred twenty eight, to Alpha, Lord Draco Lucius Malfoy of the sacred twenty eight, heir of Wiltshire.”

A gallery full of purple robed witches and wizards looked down at the young Auror standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his grey uniformed robes almost blending into the slate stone floors beneath him, leaving his unruly black hair in stark contrast, the thin round frames sitting along the bridge of his nose did nothing to distract from the vibrancy of his moss coloured eyes as he stared up at the wizard waiting expectantly.

He cleared his throat, “Ugh— yes, sir.”

The wizard looked down his nose, looking impatient, “According to our documents you were originally assigned the task of locating and extraditing aforementioned British omega, Hermione Black, née Granger.”

The young wizard cleared his throat, the gallery looking on expectantly, whilst the aged wizard lowered the papers in his hands, “You have something to add, Auror Potter?”

“Malfoy.”

“Excuse me?”

“Her name, it’s Malfoy now.”

The wizard scowled whilst the gallery tittered quietly behind him, “Indeed.”

“Please explain the proceeding events in whole and to the best of your knowledge.”

“Proceeding events, sir?”

The wizard huffed impatiently, “How did the British Omega Hermione Malfoy come to be illegally and unlawfully bound to Alpha, Lord Draco Malfoy?”

“I imagine it was planned, sir.”

“Planned? So you admit to having prior knowledge?”

“No, sir.”

The wizard slammed his fist down impatiently, “What did you have knowledge of then?”

“It’s quite a long story, sir.”

The wizard huffed impatiently, “illuminate us then.”

“Well…”


	2. Chapter 2

He could hear Black and Malfoy whisper arguing as he sliced his lacewings, watching from the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy smirk, reaching out and tucking a stray curl behind Blacks ear while she scowled, keeping her attention firmly on the cauldron in front of her whilst hissing a chastisement at Malfoy from the corner of her mouth, he whispered something back in her ear that Harry couldn’t catch.

A loud _bang_ to his left had Harry reflexively flying under his desk. Peeking out slowly he looked up to a thick cloud of smoke, twin groans to his left told him he’d made the right call.

Neville had managed to blow up another potion.

The smoke was quickly cleared away and Harry looked up from his position under the desk to see an irritated Slughorn clucking his tongue before pointing his wand at his table, clearing the smog.

“Good grief Longbottom, how you manage to blow up your cauldron on a by monthly basis is beyond even my guidance, Mister Weasley, please escort Mister Longbottom and Mister Zabini to the hospital wing. Wouldn’t want any nasty side effects lingering like the last spill. Miss Black, please pair with Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy, help Mister Nott with the remainder of his work, you and Miss Black are finished for the most part.”

Harry looked up in time to see Malfoy roll his eyes before shifting his work books to Zabini’s workbench, muttering profanities under his breath whilst Black sniggered collecting her work without comment before moving into Neville’s place beside him.

When she sat down, Harry shuffled forward and slipped back into his chair, trying not to sneeze at the heady combination of smoke coming from his cauldron, coupled with the honeyed apple scent that seemed to be wafting off of Black.

Rubbing his forehead, he missed the look of disdain that Black sent into his and Neville’s cauldron until she sniffed derisively, drawing his attention.

“Typical, Longbottom should’ve ground the Phosphorus Root down after slicing it. No wonder it blew up.”

Harry raised his head, eyes narrowing, “It’s not like he did it on purpose.”

Black rolled her eyes, “No one ever causes a potions explosion on purpose potter, except maybe Finnigan, I’m simply analysing the problem so I can help you fix it.”

Harry groaned and Balck sent him a scathing look.

“Of the two of us— who is currently undergoing an independent, advanced potions study?”

Harry blinked, “You are?”

Black rolled her eyes again, “Some of us are more interested in academia than others, Potter.”

Harry blinked again, “I just assumed your dad got in Slughorns ear about overexerting his precious daughter.”

Hermione scowled, “Not all sacred twenty eight families are content with imbeciles for heirs.” She sighed, “Meet me in the library after dinner, I’ll help you compile notes so you can salvage this sad attempt.”

Harry scowled, “I think I’ll pass.”

She sniffed, “Suit yourself, I’m not the one with anything to prove here.”

With that the bell rung and Slughorn was bellowing instructions for everyone to put their potions in stasis, Harry watched Black from the corner of his eye as she quickly placed all of her materials in her bag and stood, turning to leave, Malfoy following not a half second behind her.

“I wouldn’t get any ideas.”

Harry turned sharply, taking in Theodore Nott, head down as he stuffed his notes in his bag, before glancing up at Harry, to see how his words had landed.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, don’t get any ideas. Malfoy’s been after her betrothal contract since before first year.”

Harry felt his brows rise into his hairline, standing slowly, he waited for Nott to elaborate as the boy packed up his partners work station in his absence.

“Aren’t they like, cousins?”

Theo snorted, “Legally yeah, but Hermione’s a grafted heir.”

Harry frowned as Theo stood, slinging the two bags over his shoulder, “Your mother was grafted wasn’t she? There’s no blood relation whatsoever.”

“Huh.”

Theo rolled his eyes, “Seriously Potter, you don’t want to get on Draco’s bad side.”

Harry chuckled as they walked out of the potions classroom in tandem, “If you haven’t already noticed, I’m already on Malfoy’s bad side.”

Theo waved a hand dismissively, “Not seriously, Draco’s never perceived you as a real threat, except when it comes to Quidditch. Show any interest in Black though, and he’ll be out for blood.”

Harry gave Theo a side long glance, “Speaking from experience?”

Theo chuckled, “I’m not that dense. I’ve known them both long before Hogwarts, we used to play when we were kids. Miles Bletchley gave her a flower at Draco’s ninth birthday party, fifteen minutes later he _fell_ in the lake, covered in mud and pond scum.”

Harry barked a laugh reflexively, “Seriously?”

Theo nodded, “She’s never encouraged him, but they’re still friends.”

At Harry’s thoughtful expression Theo’s face darkened, “ _Close friends_ , Potter. She might not reciprocate his advances, hell she discourages them politely quite regularly, doesn’t mean she’ll defend you if Draco smells blood.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Theo rolled his eyes, “If he considers you a threat Potter, he won’t hesitate in tearing your head off, Merlin, you Gryffindors can be dense.”

“I don’t get it, if she doesn’t want him, then why does she put up with it?”

Theo grinned, “Blacks got her sights set on bigger and better things than securing a husband. Marrying anyone, especially Draco, would only set her back, she knows this.”

Harry was confused, “Huh?”

Theo sighed, rounding on him and pausing their ascent in the corridors, “Black has ambitions Potter, she wants recognition, she won’t get that by dating anyone, least of all Draco. She knows this, he knows this. Her only chance at acclamation outside of a worthy match and babies rests on her abilities as a witch. She wants to establish herself before she ever considers marrying. You don’t get it, you Gryffindors are all about equality and happy families. Those of us within the Sacred Twenty Eight, that adhere to tradition, take accolades and social standing seriously. If she dates Draco, then everyone we know will only ever consider her Draco’s Girlfriend, Betrothed, Wife, take your pick. That pisses her off. So she won’t date him, let alone enter into a marriage contract with him. Or anyone for that matter. Not until she’s given the recognition she deserves.”

Harry scoffed, “Deserves? She’s fifteen.”

Theo levelled him with a blank look, “How many fifteen year olds do you know that have already completed their required learning? She’s already got nine newts under her belt. Technically she could walk out the doors right now if she were so inclined, but she’s determined, Potter.”

Harry blinked, “Black has completed her newts??”

“Nine newts potter, three more than is required to graduate Hogwarts.”

Harry blinked in bafflement, “Why in the name of Godric is she still in all of our classes?”

Theo shrugged, “Lots of people stay to complete independent studies to further their masteries, Black isn’t any different, she’s just younger. You can’t tell me you’ve never noticed that her work assignments in classes are always different from the rest of us.”

Harry blinked, “They are?”

Theo huffed, turning to walk away but not before calling over his shoulder, “She doesn’t exactly draw attention to the fact, she doesn’t need to. Heed my advice potter, leave her be. Or Draco will be on you faster than you can say Quidditch.”

“Quidditch.”

Theo laughed, turning to walk backwards as he called, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

That night after dinner, Harry made it a point to head to the library, despite Notts words of caution.

He found her sitting at a table in the back of the transfiguration section, head down and scribbling furiously with her quill.

Clearing his throat, Harry stood off to the side as her head snapped up and appraised him from head to toe.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Harry shuffled awkwardly, “Well, it turns out I might need help with that potion after all.”

She quirked a brow, “And what makes you think that offer still stands?”

“I—ugh, was hoping you might take pity on me?”

She scoffed, gesturing to the empty chair opposite hers, “Take a seat.”

Harry sat down quickly, pulling out his potions work as fast as possible while Black rolled her eyes, opening one of the text books on the table by her left elbow, “Okay, so you can still save your base, you just need to add some Helibore to dilute the thickening effect of the Fire Root, let it sit for at least three hours, that’s why it exploded when Longbottom added the Phosphorus, it needed to be ground finely in order to calm the Fire Root, instead he compacted its efficiency, combined with the Lacewings, it created a charged effect, causing the explosion, with me so far?”

Harry marvelled at how Black so easily interpreted his and Neville’s blunder, eyes moving back and forth across his notes so fast he almost felt his eyes cross just watching her.

  
They discussed how Harry could salvage his potion without having to start over from scratch for the next fourty five minutes, Black never looked up from the pages which suited Harry just fine, it left him a whole lot of time to stare.

She was quite pretty, skin like the inside of an almond, eyes like liquid honey and hair like a twisted rope of wild vines halfway down her back, forcefully pulled back and contained, he wanted to reach out and tuck a stray curl that had come loose behind her ear when she started talking about the benefits of Ox Blood in Hiccoughing Solutions.

“What do we have here?”

Black stopped talking mid sentence and Harry’s head snapped up to see Draco Malfoy leaning casually against a nearby bookshelf, almost like he’d been standing there a while observing, and had made himself comfortable.

Harry felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end.

“Draco,” Hermione said with a smile in her voice, “Just helping Potter salvage his work for the last month so he doesn’t have to start from scratch.”

“Oh?” He stood tall, pushing off of the shelf and walking towards the table, eyes flickering between the two before landing on Harry’s face.

“And has Potter managed to wrap his head around fixing Longbottom’s blunder?”

Harry scowled at the sound of his sarcastic drawl and Malfoy sat at the edge of the table between them, leaning forward to brush that stray curl Harry had been eyeing out of Blacks face, without acknowledging his close proximity, she nodded and Harry felt his lungs seize at the casually intimate gesture she had accepted without thought.

“Quite well.”

She bit the tip of her quill, looking up at Harry for the first time since she had begun talking about salvaging his potion.

“It’s getting late, and you seem to have a good grasp on what you need to do, if you need anymore help, I usually come here after dinner most nights of the week, you can find me either here or in the isle by the household charms, no one ever bothers to sit there.”

Harry quirked a brow, keeping his attention firmly on her face, “Household charms?”

She laughed lightly, “In a castle full of house elves, no one ever bothers learning how to clean up after themselves.”

She turned to Malfoy, “Coming?”

Harry watched Malfoy shake his head politely, slowly helping her gather her books, “I’ll be a few minutes more, came to borrow a transmutative charms book.”

Nodding, she pasted on a smile as Malfoy handed her backpack to her, leaving them both with a casual wave before leaving the two alone.

When she was gone from ear shot, Malfoy rounded on him, “So, you’ve asked Black for help with your potions blunder.”

Harry pressed his lips together, “No, she offered, I figured I’d save myself some extra work.”

Malfoy leant forward, “Hermione doesn’t need anymore complications, least of all an insipid, unkept, buffoon that’s suddenly decided she’s interesting.”

“Oh? You mean, like you?”

He smirked, “I’m a familiar complication Potter, one that she has planned for. I’ve never disguised my intentions. You on the other hand, well, let’s just say once she realises your interests aren’t purely academic, she won’t be anywhere near as… accomodating.”

Theo Nott’s words suddenly echoed up from the depths of his mind, _She might not reciprocate his advances, hell she discourages them politely quite regularly, doesn’t mean she’ll defend you if Draco smells blood._

Malfoy read the understanding in Harry’s eyes and his smirk widened, in response Harry felt a heat burning in his gut and cheeks. Without another word Malfoy slowly stood up, straightened his tie and ran a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes on Harry’s a moment longer before strolling from the table, a swagger in his steps as he rounded the isle, stopping briefly to pluck a small tome from a nearby shelf.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s four am where I’m from and I’m not sleeping, so I figured I’d cobble together another chapter and get the ball rolling, I’ll probably go back and give it an edit once I’m not completely sleep deprived.
> 
> UPDATE  
> I have edited this chapter, just a few tweaks here and there, but essentially the same painting with more brush strokes.
> 
> PS  
> I’ve rewritten my introductory note in chapter one, just to give you all a more vivid idea of where this story is headed.

Black had been right. With her help and guidance, Harry had managed to fix his and Neville’s potions work within the week. Neville had been flabbergasted that Harry had willingly accepted help from the quiet Slytherin, but had remained mum on the subject as Black had never been one of the snakes that bullied him, nor had she for that matter, laughed with the ones who had.

Malfoy was another story.

He’d taken to watching Harry in classes, casting sly glances at him during meals, anytime Harry’s attention seemed even remotely tuned into the brunette Slytherin—that was almost always sitting beside him— Malfoy would already be watching with that knowing smirk.

Black was oblivious to it all, or, if she wasn’t, she did a damn good job of making it seem as though she didn’t deem the interactions worthy of her notice.

Harry wasn’t sure how that made him feel. He wanted her to look at him. He also wanted to know more about her.

The other Gryffindors—all of whom apparently knew absolutely nothing about the girl— had nothing to contribute on the topic of Hermione Black when he subtly enquired, only that she had been the first hat stall in Hogwarts history since their own head of house, Professor McGonagall.

Harry had remembered it well, Black had been the third student in their year to be sorted, sitting underneath that old worn hat for a total seven and a half minutes before the hat’s seam had torn open and bellowed _SLYTHERIN!_

His new habit of watching had him noticing little things. Like the other Slytherin girls, who almost never spoke to her unless spoken to, not out of spite from what he could tell, but perhaps from a kind of deference—or maybe it was her consistent indifference to almost anyone but Malfoy.

She didn’t exactly ignore people, engaging in polite conversation with her peers when spoken to, but she would almost always retreat back into whatever book or scroll was sitting in front of her once she was no longer required to participate in conversations.

Harry almost thought it was a form of ostracism on her part, until one day he noticed Marcus Flint sauntering up to her. Intrigued, Harry had noticed his friends sniggering, egging him on by the looks of it, part ways up the table.

He had sat down heavily on Black’s left. Malfoy, sitting on her right, had immediately ceased whatever conversation he was immersed in with Nott and Zabini across the table, stoically turning his attention to the trespasser, eyeing him silently with a blank expression.

Any Slytherins nearby seemed to have halted their conversations as well. Harry imagined they were holding their collective breaths as they watched what was happening unfold.

Flint had draped an arm intimately over Black’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

Whatever he said, it must have been loud enough for Malfoy to hear it considering not a moment later, Flint had dropped straight to the floor, seemingly writhing from a phantom pain until any exposed skin started turning a brilliant red.

Black had turned then, eyeing Flint with a shrewd look before unhurriedly turning back to her food. likewise, Malfoy had slowly gone back to his lunch and conversation, all without blinking an eye.

Harry hadn’t even seen him draw his wand.

Nobody at the Slytherin table had seemed fazed or bothered, collectively turning their backs on the groaning boy, not a single one rising to alert a teacher—or even protest from what he had seen—the whole table had turned their heads back to the table, ignoring their Quidditch Captain lying on the floor of the Great Hall, even as his friends hastily rose from their seats, promptly scooping him up from the ground and slinging his arms over their shoulders whilst the others blocked him from view, all of them casting furtive looks at Malfoy, as they proceeded to half carry the moaning boy from the hall before any of the professors at the head table had had a chance to notice what had happened.

That was five weeks ago now, Harry hadn’t had another chance to speak to Black since she had helped him with his potions assignment, anytime he thought to seek her out, Malfoy would always be hovering nearby, it was galling.

“Why are you so keen on Black anyways, Harry?”

Harry blinked out of his thoughts, coming back to the present, he turned to the freckled red head at his side, currently shovelling bacon into his mouth faster than he could chew.

He shrugged, “I dunno, I guess I never really paid her any mind before, she helped me —she’s…nice.”

Ron snorted, “Sure. Don’t let Malfoy catch you getting friendly with her, Marcus Flint still has to soak his whole body in Dittany every other day after that blood boiling hex, and that was weeks ago, mate.”

Harry frowned, “How’d you know about that?”

Ron shot him an incredulous look, “You’re bloody joking, right? Everyone knows about it, Fred and George ran into Flint in the Hospital Wing a couple weeks ago, said he was waiting for Pomfrey to give him a Dittany sponge bath, covered in welts he was, told them he’d flirted with her on a dare after he lost a bet on the Ravenclaw Hufflepuff match.”

“A dare?”

Ron nodded whilst he chewed. Dean Avery, who had heard their conversation and was sitting across from Harry, took that moment to lean forward, “Apparently no one in Slytherin has turned Malfoy in, they all know it was him though. He did the same thing to Adrian Pucey when he asked Black out on a Hogsmeade weekend last year.”

Harry frowned, “Why hasn’t anyone told one of the professors?”

Dean gave him a dubious look, “Seriously? No one in Slytherin wants to get on Malfoy’s bad side, his father owns half the alleys in Diagon. He’s also pretty close with Black’s father, now _that_ guy gives me the creeps.”

Harry straightened in his seat, “You know her dad?”

Dean nodded absently, “Yeah, I mean—sort of. My father is Head of International Relations at the Ministry, so they rub shoulders on occasion. Black has a lot of galleons invested in Malfoy’s properties, Father says he’s been at a few of the meetings when Lucius applied for foreign permits—that bloke is richer than the Muggle Queen— says he even has money in Muggle properties.”

Harry raised his brows, “Wow.”

“Yeah, and Regulus Black is Head of The Department of Mysteries, ever since he got promoted, no one outside of the department is allowed down there, so no one really knows what he or the Unspeakables do.”

Ron elbowed his side, “Your dad is friends with Sirius Black, right?”

Harry startled, nodding, “Yeah—he’s my Godfather, they work in the D.M.L.E together.”

“Why not just ask him about her, if you’re so curious?”

Harry frowned, _why hadn’t he thought of that?_

“So,” Sirius said, taking long pull of his butterbeer, “What’s this impromptu get together all about, Harry? When I got your owl I gotta say, I was pretty curious.”

Harry fidgeted with the handle of his mug absently, now that he was here, sitting across from Sirius in The Three Broomsticks, he felt quite foolish. Owling his Godfather to meet him for drinks on his next Hogsmeade weekend had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now though, it was the loud voices around the pub helping to drown out his anxiety. Easing the butterflies in his stomach as he opened his mouth, “I just wanted to see how you and dad are going, you know, with the World Cup preparations and all.”

Sirius’s brows raised, “Then why didn’t you just owl your dad? You know he’d love to hear from you.”

Harry sighed, looking into the depths of his butterbeer, he felt like an idiot.

“Wait.”

He looked up into Sirius’s smirking face, “This isn’t about a girl, is it?”

Harry felt his cheeks instantly flush, opening his mouth to reply, _No, it isn’t,_ when Sirius’s barking laugh cut him off.

“It is! Ha! Your dad owes me ten galleons.”

Harry’s head shot up, eyes widening, “You told dad I wanted to talk to you about a girl?!”

Sirius waved dismissively, scooting his chair forward, he pushed aside his mug of butterbeer, before resting his chin in his palms, elbows on the table as he grinned cheekily, “Well? Who is she?”

Harry scowled, “Why? Did you take bets on that, too?”

“Oh come on, Harry. Don’t be like that, tell me, who is she?”

Harry hesitated before glancing up, “You, erm, you—ah, know her.”

Sirius’s grin couldn’t get any wider, “ _Oh_? It’s not Arthur’s daughter is it?”

Harry blanched, “Ginny? She’s just a kid!”

Sirius frowned, “Damn.”

Harry scowled, he could tell from his Godfather’s reaction, he _had_ made more than one bet.

“Well?” Sirius said, sitting up, “Who is it, then?”

Harry swallowed, casting nervous eyes around the pub, before answering, “It’s, ah, it’s... Hermione...Black.”

Sirius froze mid sip of his drink, slowly putting his mug back down on the table. When he didn’t immediately speak, Harry took a nervous sip of his own butterbeer, taking a moment to stare into its honeyed foam before trying to meet Sirius’s eyes unsuccessfully, “She’s, ah, she’s your niece— right?”

Sirius remained stiff, giving a jerky nod, “Yeah—yeah, I guess she is.” He looked Harry straight in the eyes, “Does she know you fancy her?”

Harry felt himself blush as he looked back down at the table taking a deep breath, “No, no, she doesn’t.”

Sirius nodded, looking away, “You should probably keep it that way, Harry.”

His eyes snapped back up into Sirius’s blanked face, “What?”

Sirius finished his drink before answering, “Hermione, she’s...different.”

Harry felt himself snap, _“I know!_ I get it, I’ve already heard it, she’s a Slytherin. But she’s—she’s nice, okay? But Malfoy’s always with her, even though they supposedly aren’t together, and he’s always got that bloody smirk, like he knows she wouldn’t go for me, or— _I don’t know!”_

Harry pulled at his hair, avoiding the dawning comprehension in Sirius’s face, “Draco knows you like her?”

Harry groaned into his hands, and as if he’d summoned them simply by speaking about them, there they were.

“Uncle.”

They looked up simultaneously, Black and Malfoy standing just a few feet away, with dissimilar expressions, Black looked to be unsuccessfully holding back a frown, and Malfoy, well Malfoy was wearing his usual smirk, only this time it seemed more gleeful than usual.

_  
Perfect._

“Hermione,” Sirius straightened in his seat, “You look..well.”

It was the most uncomfortable Harry had ever seen his Godfather, Black too, for that matter.

Harry thought she almost looked to be sneering which seemed like an alien expression on her usually placid face, before it quickly transformed into a gracious smile, “You too.” 

Her attention moved to Harry, a flicker of surprise in her eyes made a weight drop in his stomach and he fought the urge to swallow, “Potter, how have you been? I don’t think we’ve spoken since your potions hiccup.”

_Not for a lack of trying_ , thought Harry bitterly.

“Yeah, good— thanks again, you know, for all your help, it really…helped.”

_Godric, that was lame_.

Her smile became more genuine and Harry fought down another blush, “Anytime, you know where to find me.”

Harry jerked a nod and Malfoy, who had been uncharacteristically quiet until that point spoke for the first time since arriving, “Well, Hermione and I have plans, have a good day…gentlemen.”

With that, the two Slytherins turned, stepping away from them and weaving through the crowded tables towards the bar.

Harry must’ve been staring longer than he’d realised, the sound of Sirius clearing his throat abruptly pulling him out of his staring contest with Blacks back, Sirius’s sympathising eyes looking back at him, “That bad, huh?”

“Huh?”

Sirius smiled half heartedly, “Harry,” he seemed to search for the right words, “Harry, Hermione is...special—“

“I know she is.” He cut in.

Sirius shook his head, “No, I don’t think that you do, I don’t mean that she’s smart. I mean— of course she’s smart, she’s a bloody genius, but that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s...more than that. When Regulus brought her home, well, I’ve never seen him so attached to anyone before in my life. He was always a bit of a loner, didn’t ever connect with people really, but, from the second he brought her home, he adored her, couldn’t have loved her more than if he’d given birth to her himself. We were never ever close at all growing up, my mother thought I was a blight on our family, but she doted on Regulus. He was the perfect son. Could do no wrong, except when we got older and he never married. I wasn’t the only one in the doghouse anymore. Our mother couldn’t make him marry, our father died of dragon pox when we were both still in school, but not before he disinherited me. So, when he died lordship of The House of Black fell to my brother. Being paterfamilias gave him control over his bride and he chose not to marry at all, made our mother bloody furious. Then one day, after years of being perpetually single, he brings home a kid. I think she was five—maybe six, and suddenly, Reg was the golden child again. She adored that little girl almost as much as Reg did.”

Harry was riveted, this was more information than he’d ever expected to hear, he sat on the edge of his seat, waiting for Sirius to continue.

“My point is, Hermione, she’s—different. A lot of families have already tried to place bids on her bride price, Reg turned them all down flat, even Cissa, though she never seemed to take it personally—“

“Cissa?” Harry interrupted.

“Draco’s mother.” Sirius clarified, “She’s our cousin, we grew up together. Anyway, when Reg grafted Hermione, good old mum raved to everyone about her perfect granddaughter that was already learning wandless magic. Cissa insisted on meeting the girl when she told her. Reg always had a soft spot for Cissa, so when she started setting up play dates for Hermione and Draco, he didn’t kick up a fuss. He figured she should have friends her own age, and well Draco, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight whenever they were together. Stuck to her like glue, she didn’t mind though. I think it made her happy to have someone else so devoted to her.”

Harry’s head was swimming, _Black was doing wandless magic at_ five?

“How do you know all this?”

Sirius shrugged, “Mum contracted Dragon Pox just like dad did, probably got it from rooting through all his old things, never threw any of his clothes or anything out after he died. I moved back in for a couple of years to help Reg take care of her before she died. I was around for most of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me your thoughts x


End file.
